Magic Healing Kisses
by an-alternate-world
Summary: When the migraines strike, Sebastian knew there was nothing which really helped Blaine except quiet, and dark, and time. And maybe some cuddles and kisses.


**Title: **Magic Healing Kisses  
**Author: **an-alternate-world  
**Rating:** K  
**Characters/Pairing: **Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe  
**Word Count:** 2,837  
**Summary:** When the migraines strike, Sebastian knew there was nothing which really helped Blaine except quiet, and dark, and time. And maybe some cuddles and kisses.  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** None.  
**Disclaimer: **I am in no way associated with _Glee_, FOX, Ryan Murphy or anything else related to the FOX universe.

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_**McCall** (**blainesebastian**) just had her birthday and she said she'd give birthday cupcakes to someone who wrote a fic about Blaine having a migraine and Sebastian giving him forehead kisses. While I don't claim to know everything about migraines, many of Blaine's symptoms are based off my own experiences. Hope this is what sweet McCall was after :3 Happy birthday, darling! (I'll PM my address to you for the cupcakes!)_

* * *

It's nearing 5.30 when he gets a call from Blaine.

He'd expected Blaine home earlier but he also knows Blaine has been putting in more hours at work in an attempt not to bring it home with him so much. It's a noble desire, all for a cause Sebastian could support, if Blaine wasn't working at least an hour more than usual and not getting paid for it. He knows it's not Blaine's fault that he's teaching students with higher needs this year. More behaviour problems, more learning difficulties, more mental health concerns, more helicopter parents, have been piled onto Blaine's shoulders and reducing him to someone more stressed than Sebastian has seen in years. It doesn't matter that Blaine is already a great teacher or that the problems he faces each day are because he's ineffectual or not trying hard enough – Blaine continues working himself to the bone and Sebastian misses the carefree light that used to be in Blaine's eyes, the ease of his smiles and the confidence in his posture.

He wishes he could be surprised by the late phone call but he's not. He prepares himself for Blaine to say he's running late, that maybe he hasn't even left school yet, and checks the dinner preparations to ensure the oil isn't going to start smoking or set fire to the apartment while unattended as he scoops up the phone and scrapes his thumb across the screen.

"Hey, how lo-"

"Seb, I can't see," Blaine interrupts, his voice panicked and high-pitched. There's a distant roar of what sounds like either a subway or a truck in the background of Blaine's call but then he hears the honk of cars on whatever street Blaine's stopped at and he knows that the other male is at least on ground level.

Sebastian freezes for a split second before he springs into automatic action. He switches off the cooktop and the oven, making sure nothing is left on as he prepares to leave the apartment which could see it burning down. "I'll be out of the apartment in two minutes," he promises, dragging his shoes off the rack and grasping his coat in the other hand. "Did you get off the train?"

"Yeah..."

Blaine sounds exhausted and Sebastian stifles a curse when he trips trying to pull on his shoes. He hates Blaine working this hard. It's the second migraine this month, the fifth migraine in the past three months. After the third, so terrified by all the medical mystery stories he watched late at night during college and thinking about all the worst case scenarios, he'd taken Blaine to the ER and demanded CT and MRI scans to ensure Blaine didn't have a tumour. The scans had come back clear, medication to ease the severity of the migraines and occasionally prevent them was prescribed, and Sebastian was left with the disgust at the public school system inflicting this much hurt on someone he cared about so deeply.

He knew that Blaine losing his vision was usually several signs too late and Sebastian wished Blaine wasn't working so hard that the stress headaches were taking over his life. He wished he could do more to help Blaine unwind but even the most incredible sex only helped for a little while. He wished Blaine would become more aware of the earlier signs so he'd get home before he went blind.

"Can you see anything?" he asks, swiping his keys from the counter and locking the front door behind him. "Do you know which station you got off at?"

"It's fuzzy. I… I think I'm outside St Vincent's Clinic?" Blaine whispers and Sebastian already suspects the pain is creeping into Blaine's skull if he's lowering his voice that much. Sebastian cranks up the volume on his phone to ensure he doesn't miss any words Blaine says. "I got off at Union Square and thought I'd make it home but now I can't see in front of me and... _God_, Seb, I'm _sorry_."

He hushes Blaine's apology and starts down the street, knowing Blaine is only a few blocks south-east and he can be there within five minutes. It's not ideal but it's faster to walk in New York than drive. At least Blaine wasn't still at Union Square Station. That would take him much longer to reach and much longer to get home.

"The clinic's right there. Do you want to go inside for some meds?" he says as he walks, trying to keep Blaine on the phone and gauge just how bad the migraine might become. He wasn't afraid of marching Blaine into the clinic himself if necessary and getting some sort of mega pain tranquiliser. Anything to make Blaine not cry with hurt anymore.

"I just wanna lay down in our room," Blaine replies, voice soft and drained of energy, as Sebastian turns the corner onto 14th Street. "It's not too bad."

"Yet," Sebastian mutters, because the temporary blindness Blaine suffered usually meant there was an hour until the pain truly set in. Blaine had tried to explain it once, after the second migraine, when the centre of his vision had turned black and he'd had to call for Sebastian to get him when he couldn't see where he was going.

"_It's like you've been staring at the sun for five minutes and there's some damage to the back of your retinas and it's blank, black space in the middle of whatever you're trying to look at_," Blaine had said while Sebastian had rubbed circles into his neck. He'd thought it sounded terrifying, but it wasn't nearly as bad as finding Blaine crumpled in heap on a street calling for help. '_In sickness and in health_' was all fine and dandy but he knew this was all related to the new class Blaine had this year. He was beginning to wonder if he should call the principal and demand Blaine be moved to another class, or receive a teacher's aide to reduce some of the burden that weighed on Blaine's shoulders.

"Where are you?" Blaine asks, his voice turning towards a weak plea. Sebastian sped up his steps.

"14th and 8th," he says, darting to the left to take Greenwich Avenue down to 13th. He squints and can see Blaine, a huddle on the side of the road with his hand pressed to his ear, further down. His fast walking turns into a jog. "I can see you," he says and hangs up, pocketing his phone as he rushes the last few hundred feet.

He's beside Blaine in seconds, crouching beside him and touching his knee. Blaine manages a dazed sort of smile as his head tilts towards Sebastian, his eyes looking at Sebastian but the focus in them blank – Sebastian finds that part terrifying too.

"Hey you," he murmurs, reaching out to cradle Blaine's face and trying to determine what he can do to help Blaine the most. With superhuman effort, he could scoop Blaine into his arms and carry him into the clinic if necessary. "Talk to me."

"It's only like, a two," Blaine says, leaning into the hand and closing his eyes. He's pale, Sebastian thinks, and there are dark circles under his eyes he hadn't noticed were so dark this morning. Maybe the pallor of his skin is making the circles appear starker but he also thinks it's a sign of Blaine's bad sleeping habits and adds that to his list of things to worry about. "But there are spots on my vision and I feel really nauseous."

"Okay…" He smooths his thumb into Blaine's temple, knowing it will only provide temporary relief because so far, they hadn't found anything which really helped except quiet, and dark, and time. "Are you up to walking home?"

Blaine's nose scrunches in distaste for the idea but he gives a small nod, so Sebastian loops their elbows together and helps the shorter male to his feet. Blaine tucks beneath his armpit as Sebastian starts walking, guiding him home after another glance between Blaine and the clinic. They already had some heavy duty pain meds after Sebastian had demanded Blaine get checked out but he had to get Blaine home first.

"Do you want to talk about your day?" he says, pressing a kiss to the top of Blaine's hair and checking his face again. Blaine's eyes are still closed and Sebastian takes a moment to appreciate the level of trust Blaine places in him to keep him safe as they walk. Sebastian's not sure he'd close his eyes and allow Blaine to lead him around the city.

"Just wanna get home," Blaine mumbles and Sebastian hums in acknowledgement. Blaine had wanted to talk the first few times in the hopes of reliving the stress that had built upon his shoulders during the day. More recently, Blaine was too fatigued, too disoriented, to speak and just wanted to rest. Sebastian respected whatever Blaine desired but sometimes he wondered about what happened on the days the migraines struck – a particularly obnoxious child? A problematic parent? Some criticism levelled at Blaine that made him feel inadequate?

The return home takes a few minutes longer with Blaine's slow, blind progress but his breath of gratitude as they step through the front door is enough for Sebastian. They toe off their shoes and Sebastian peels Blaine's coat from his shoulders, hanging it beside his own before grabbing for Blaine's hand and guiding him down the hallway.

"Can I get you anything?" he says as he switches off the hall light and leads Blaine into their bedroom.

"Glass of water and some aspirin?" Blaine requests and Sebastian nods, helping him find the edge of the bed before letting go.

"Be right back."

He darts from the bedroom to the bathroom, filling a glass of water in one hand while retrieving the aspirin from the cupboard with the other. He's not sure why he feels the need to race around but he's seized by a sense of urgency he can't shake as he walks into the bedroom again. Maybe it's just because he hates seeing someone he loves so much on the verge of excruciating pain. It _was_ a good motivator, he supposed.

By the time he returns, Blaine has curled onto his side on the bed, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose and his breathing sounding forced. It's enough for Sebastian to know the pain is still impending and Blaine is trying to use some sort of breathing exercise in an attempt to lessen the stress.

He scoots onto the bed, hand curling behind Blaine's neck to raise his head. Blaine stills which enables Sebastian to tip drops of water into his mouth. Blaine swallows at least a third of the glass before Sebastian feeds the aspirin past his lips, then encourages more water into his mouth. When Blaine gives a little huff and touches his wrist, he places the glass on the bedside table and wriggles down onto the mattress. Blaine cuddles closer, tucking beneath Sebastian's arm again, head resting against his shoulder.

"Just relax, babe," he whispers, curving his hand around Blaine's neck and rubbing slow circles into his skin. He tilts his head towards Blaine, lips pressing to his forehead and causing him to release a contented sort of sigh.

"You're the _best_," Blaine breathes and in the minimal light filtering into the room from a street lamp outside, Sebastian can see the faint smile curving Blaine's lips.

He kisses Blaine's forehead again. "And _you're_ overworking yourself," he scolds, dragging his thumb along the tense muscle in Blaine's neck and making him whine. It's not the first time Sebastian has said such a thing and he doubt it will be the last – Blaine rarely took care of himself properly, at least when it came to things which caused him great deals of stress. He also still lacked a lot of self-belief that he was an exceptional teacher rather than an adequate one.

"Not now," Blaine says, fingers wrapping around Sebastian's waist, and Sebastian concedes the point and quietens. A migraine is already building – it would be remiss of Sebastian to add to Blaine's agitation and irritation and inflict even worse pain on him.

He listens to Blaine's slow and even breathing as he continues moving his fingers against Blaine's skin, anything to unwind the tension from his muscles and reduce the severity of the pain. He kisses Blaine's forehead from time to time, remembering the way his mother used to say that kisses could be magic for healing any sort of affliction. He holds Blaine through the worst of the quiet whimpers of pain and faint trembling when the agony in his head finally unleashes. His fingertips catch the tears Blaine sheds as the pain takes over and he feels awful and useless and wishes he could take all the hurt on himself.

An hour, maybe two, after the agony had made Blaine mumble something about cleaving open his skull to reduce the pressure in his brain, he tilts his head into Sebastian's neck and leaves a kiss against his pulsepoint. It's the sign that the migraine is fading, at least enough that Blaine is willing to seek him out rather than cling in silence.

"Are you hungry?" he whispers, rubbing his thumb along the ridge behind Blaine's ear and smiling at the quiet moan which falls from Blaine's mouth. He'd learned how sensitive that spot was after the second migraine.

"No… Just wanna sleep…" Blaine's voice is raspy and Sebastian winces, wondering how bad Blaine would rate the hurt he'd just endured. It's rare he hears Blaine's voice so wrecked unless they've been engaged in a particularly rigorous sex marathon.

He brushes a kiss to the T-junction of Blaine's brow, following the line of his eyebrows to his temple with butterfly kisses that make Blaine's breathing escape in little puffs against his neck.

"_I_ need to eat something," he says, tracing his fingertips down Blaine's face in the darkness. "How about I help you change and you rest, and once I've eaten I'll come right back to holding you?"

Blaine makes a soft, "Mmkay," and Sebastian forces himself to draw away, laying Blaine's head on the nearest pillow and climbing free of the bed. He retrieves Blaine's t-shirt and sweatpants from the bathroom and returns, working in the dark to unbutton his shirt and pants, prying the fabric from his skin. There's nothing sexual about his movements because Blaine is too loose, too floppy, and he works as precisely as possible to avoid jostling Blaine too much. Once he's satisfied he hasn't put Blaine's clothes on back-to-front, he coaxes him beneath the blankets and leaves a final kiss on his forehead.

"I'll be back in a little bit," he promises and Blaine hums, the sound of shifting sheets and blankets heard as he probably curls around Sebastian's pillow in his absence.

Sebastian pulls the door almost closed as he leaves the bedroom, first calling Blaine's school to leave a message on the answering machine that he won't be in the following day. Blaine will be grumpy later, maybe in the morning, but Sebastian had seen him on the Saturday after the third migraine and wondered how the hell Blaine had managed to teach the day after the previous two. Since then, he didn't care if Blaine used up his sick days recovering from the ache in his head – it was worth it if he spent the day taking care of himself.

Once he's hung up the phone, he flicks on the light in the hallway and moves to the kitchen. The preparations he'd made for dinner get returned to the fridge for tomorrow and he takes out some leftover chicken and mayonnaise to make a sandwich. It's nothing fancy, nor is it particularly tasty, but he doesn't want any smells to trigger the return of Blaine's migraine or increase his nausea like he'd mistakenly done after the first one.

It's too early to sleep yet he knows he can't sit and watch TV on his own. He's also not interested in reading a book. His husband is recovering from a migraine and, like every other time, there's nowhere he'd rather be.

Switching off the lights, he returns to the bedroom and strips down to his boxers. He can hear Blaine's slow breathing and approaches the bed as quietly as possible, crawling under the covers and easing the pillow from beneath Blaine's head and replacing it with his chest. Blaine mumbles something in his sleep, a soft noise of protest perhaps at being disturbed, before he seeks out the warmth of Sebastian's skin, the familiar scent of his body, the touch of his hands.

Sebastian calmly wraps his arms around the other male and leaves his lips pressed to Blaine's forehead, hoping some of the healing magic of kisses will flow into Blaine's body throughout the night and stave off another migraine attack for at least a few weeks.

* * *

**_~FIN~_**


End file.
